Abyssal Salvation
by Apostacy
Summary: Dumbledore should have never left the care of the Wizarding World's savior in the hands of foolish muggles, they were so easy to mislead and in doing so, would unleash a being steeped in knowledge so dark that even Thomas Marvolo Riddle would give pause. With darkness as his savior and confidant, Hadrian Potter will change the world; for good or ill...
1. Chapter 1

Abyssal Salvation

**Disclaimer:** So I just wanted to start off by saying that while this piece draws from many different sources and is based on another's mythology, the ideas represented are mine and mine alone. I truly wished that I owned Harry Potter and the ilk but it wasn't meant to be.

This story is dark, and while it isn't gratuitous for the sake of being so, I don't feel that I should have to go into great detail about that here. Suffice to say there will be death, there will be cruelty, and there will be decisions that ultimately no good man or woman would make; that's just the way it is and if it isn't your cup of tea, then I kindly suggest that you look elsewhere for rainbows and puppy dogs.

On the topic of homosexual and heterosexual pairings I will say this; I have nothing against anyone's lifestyle and sexual leanings but as it is my story there will be little to no homosexual references in this story; I am not comfortable writing them (as I feel I cannot do them justice) and to be frank, there is far more of them than there are of heterosexual pairings. This isn't meant to offend, as I have many friends who are either homosexual or lesbian and life is too short to make ones decisions out of hatred or ignorance, but merely out of convenience.

I will be attempting to update this at least once a week as I have the synapsis of the story already worked out, it's just a matter of fleshing out the bare bones and I have always taken great pride in my efforts there. There will be no polls or opinions sought that will ultimately change the path of this tale but reviews are welcomed (yes even constructive criticism) whereas flames are not; if you have nothing better to do than to belittle another's work to fill some sort of dark yearning of your own, again go elsewhere as idiots and malcontents are not welcome here.

Miscellaneous: There are going to be several references from both modern and historical pieces of fiction and hopefully some of you will be able to guess which is which (or is it witch, I can never clear that up…) However I will say that anyone who has enjoyed Vertigo or some of the older Marvel comics will be able to guess a few things right off the hop (No Potter doesn't wear a cape or is a super powered mutant) whereas for the others, I hope it will be a pleasant surprise so please enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Abyssal Salvation**_

_**Chapter One: From the Mouths of Babes**_

He had been watching the child for quite some time now and what he saw both astounded and disgusted him; while it was true that he was an avid practitioner of what some deemed the darker magicks, Jason Cruor (Magus Cruor amongst his fellow contemporaries) had never deliberately harmed a child _Salvaged certain components from one that had already passed certainly, but I have never harmed a child as these mundanes seem to do with each passing breath…_ Continuing to observe as a beefy hand cuffed the side of the child's face, he merely watched and waited as little by little the blood wards that seemed to permeate this place began to shimmer "Another week, perhaps two and it will have fallen enough to the point where something can be done; Dumbledore should not have abandoned such a treasure to the hands of mundanes… So much potential there, so much raw power…" The conversation, although seemingly one sided, somehow took on the tone of two speaking with one voice as the enigmatic figure seemed to meld with the darkness; there was much to do and little time to do it in.

As the solitary figure seemed to dissipate and fade from view, his presence went unnoticed by those he had been observing as the corpulent being that deigned to consider himself a man, swatted at the child once more, driving him forward towards the door "After that stunt you pulled in school boy, you're lucky I'm not doing any worse to your sorry hide… Turning a teacher's hair blue with that freakishness…" The last phrased murmured under his breath as he shoved the child passed the threshold, the door was slammed shut and as it did, the fools actions would enact his family's downfall…

Whilst his family slept, the child who was commonly referred to as 'Boy' or 'Freak' by his relatives, lay sobbing in his cupboard as he tried to maintain a semblance of control; the thrashing had been bad enough but if Uncle Vernon woke up… Well then he would receive it all over again "One day I will get them all back… make them squeal… I swear I will…" With eyes swollen shut from his Uncle's fists, young Hadrian Potter failed to notice the faint nimbus of red sooty energy that seemed to convalesce about him as he made his oath, nor did he feel the pressure of the wards lesson with every drop of his blood striking the wooden floor; he was only nine after all and not expected to know of such things.

Days and nights passed with an easy routine of young Hadrian (he refused to answer to Harry ever since his relatives started making it sound like a derogatory term) committing himself to his chores, taking his punishments when they were allotted to him (whether fairly or no), and trying to rein in the accidental magicks that seemed to respond to every insult and every swat; just the other day he had found himself resting comfortably up on the roof after one kick too many by Dudley and his band of cronies but luckily Vernon hadn't caught wind of it _I need to find a way out of here, even if I end up in a workhouse or an orphanage, anything is better than this place…_ Drying the last dish in the sink, his words seemed to take on a prophetic quality "This will never be my home." As his words went unheard by the pigs still seated at the trough, out in the darkness of Privet Drive, someone who had been waiting for what seemed days **had** heard and now could bring his plans to bear.

As Hadrian finished cleaning the sink free of any flotsam and jetsam left by the plates, a knock was heard at the door "Go answer it Boy and be quick about it… If it's one of them religious types or a salesmen tell them to bugger off; we don't deal with their ilk in this house." As the obese creature seemed to chortle at his own rather pathetic wit with both his equine faced wife and equally porcine child joining in for good measure, Hadrian simply placed a hand upon the handle and opened the door _A break from all this would be great, I don't care if this person is selling something.._ Casting his gaze out passed the doorway, he simply stood shock still as he took in the gentleman's appearance; a thin almost wiry frame, dark almost blood red hair that was cropped close in military fashion, and a smirk upon his face that promised either fierce retribution or fierce reward depending upon how he was received. Of course Hadrian would have never made such a connection, but instead surmised everything with a solitary thought _This guy is a badass…_ Clearing his throat, he stammered out a rather weak reply "Can we help you sir?'

"I certainly hope so, this is the Dursley residence is it not?' Even the man's English, clipped and influenced by some sort of Eastern European accent, seemed to bely power and influence as a faint smile seemed to grace his features. Receiving a faint nod from the child at the door he continued "Then I have come to the right place, is Mister Dursley available?'

As if his words had served as a summoning of sorts, Vernon Dursley quickly made an appearance (well as quick as a morbidly obese man could) with a frown upon his features "I suppose you have a good reason for interrupting us during such an ungodly hour Mister…?

"Cruor, Jason Cruor, and I have to apologise for my late arrival however I have just arrived here in London in regards to your son Dudley… If I could come in, I am certain that this will prove to be a highly profitable experience for you and your spouse as well as a greatly beneficial one for your son." Waiting until he was invited in, he calmly sat down in the living room as the family assembled "I represent a school in Eastern Europe that caters to those of high intelligence and ambition, I trust you have heard of the Farmece Institute?" Waiting politely as their jaws dropped to the floor and then reasserted themselves he continued "It is considered the Eton of the East and with good reason, over ninety percent of our graduates eventually earn full scholarships to Oxford due to testing in the top ten percentile and we have had an eye on young Dudley here for quite some time."

As his words finally began to sink in, the family immediately became far more gracious then they had been previously and began to babble incoherently about how truly great their son was even as Hadrian moved to refill their snifters of Brandy. Accepting the glass with a faint smile, Mister Cruor continued "I am happy to inform you that we are willing to offer a full scholarship to young Dudley here but unfortunately the school term starts immediately… We can make allowances of course for your son to attend later on in the year but I would hate to see him so disadvantaged early on…"

"Quite right, our Dudder's needs the best and if that means that he leaves immediately for this institution then by all means Mister Cruor." Sparing a withering glance towards Hadrian, Vernon snarled "Refill the glasses boy and be quick about it!" Fighting down the urge to cuff the boy across the head he offered an apologetic glance towards his guest "Sorry about that Mister Cruor, a distaff cousin on my wife's side who we have taken in out of charity… A little slow in the uptake if you know what I mean." Smirking as if he had just made a joke of sorts he leaned back with a snifter in his hand as Petunia seemed to nod emphatically with her husband's assessment.

Taking in the interaction between the family and Hadrian, he couldn't help but notice the artfully hidden snear upon the child's features "They say that charity starts at home Mister Dursley and I am glad to see that it's true in this case." Withdrawing a silver cigarette case, he motioned as if he were asking permission, and when granted, began to puff contentedly away upon a cigarette even as the boy was sent to fetch an ashtray " Surely though, the boy is quite the burden to you, especially with such a strapping young man as your son leaving to attend a school of such renown…" Shifting forward, he continued with a strange glint in his eye "Such hapless individuals are certainly unfit for any sort of intellectual pursuits but… Well I hate to make mention of this, there is a program that we have in my homeland that could eventually turn even an imbecile into a hardworking and productive member of society." Going into great detail about the various trade schools and programs offered in his homeland, he seemed to smile "The only reason I mention this, is that we demand perfection from our own students and that requires a family that is focused upon their own needs and not that of unfortunates…. I have been instructed to offer placement in one of the trade schools in the area of the Farmece for young… Harry was it?"

Immediate looks of greed appeared upon the faces of both Vernon and Petunia, only to be replaced by hesitance as they seemed to both voice their concerns "The boy is a troublemaker and an upstart, we couldn't just let him loose on someone, not with such a gracious offer that your making Mister Cruor…" About to go into further detail, a hand raised from their chosen benefactor curtailed whatever comments they were about to make.

"You can rest assured that if they boy misbehaves that the consequences will be most dire, the dregs of society are not catered to in my country and corporal punishment is the norm for such lesser beings.." At the words corporal punishment, he knew instinctively that he had them as he withdrew several papers "The tenure for your son is four years, at which time we will immediately send him to Eton in order to finish his education on British Soil and make any arrangements for further education, whereas for Harry it will be a position of no less than ten years and then employment within our native country." Withdrawing a pen, he simply smiled as he offered over the paperwork to the man of the house and waited for his perusal and subsequent signing of the documentation.

As the last I's were dotted and T's crossed, the paperwork was quickly placed within the inner pocket of Jason's dress jacket " If there is nothing else than Mister and Missus Dursley, I will collect my charge and your nephew before heading off, we have a private plane to catch after all." Watching as Dudley scrambled off to pack, his eyes seemed to rest upon Hadrian, noting his silence and the anger that was palpable upon his features _Keep your tongue silent boy, I didn't waste my energies upon compulsion charms and their ilk just so that you could muck things up with foolish outbursts._ Clearing his throat as Dudley arrived with a small pack and look of confusion upon his features, he stood with a faint smile on his face "Time to go my boy…" looking at Hadrian one last time he smirked "You too." Saying his goodbyes to the family, he simply made his way outside towards the vehicle that sat waiting, even as the paperwork seemed to shift and change into a document of a different sort _I wonder how they will react to their son learning a simple trade while their 'good for nothing' nephew is immersed in the darker Arts… If only I could see Dumbledore's face…_ Chuckling to himself as the children were belted in and he entered the passenger side, he couldn't help but wonder what the uproar would be when Albus Dumbledore finally realized that their Savior was about to become something they had never imagined…


	3. Chapter 3

_**Abyssal Salvation**_

_**Chapter Two: Ponderings, Fears, and Foolish Musings**_

The concluding item placed before the Wizengamot's docket had finally been ratified; a simple vote in order to determine whether or not taxes should be increased on imported materials as opposed to utilizing the bounty that Britain had to offer. Unbeknownst to that austere body, their decision to ultimately impose tariffs was eerily similar to one that the Muggles had issued just prior to Black Thursday and subsequently had been one of the leading factors in the Great Depression; certainly the purebloods would scoff at the inference and assure themselves that everything was well in hand, they were wizards after all and could handle any eventual crisis no matter what their xenophobia cost them in the long term.

All politics and grandstanding aside, it was a weary Albus Dumbledore that was the last to leave the halls with a look of grim realization upon his features _The more they try to strengthen the economic plateau of this country, the more they weaken it, have they learned nothing from the Great War we faced and the pressures it placed upon us? No matter, I will simply prepare for the worst…_ Making note to invest more of his funds within muggle institutions (which were currently doing quite well), he could clearly be heard mumbling something to the effect of "Hmm Arthur and the rest should look into it as well, wouldn't do for them to go hungry…" Simply apparating towards the gates of his alma mater, a faint smile seemed to crease his ancient yet hale features; no matter how many times he had seen it, the spires of Hogwarts would always leave an indelible impression upon him as a sanctuary for those in need and a place of learning for those who refused to remain ignorant.

What one has to understand is that Albus Dumbledore was not a cruel man, nor was he an ignorant man despite what one might surmise from the beginning of this story… No it was simply that he was weary and in an effort to see all things, he inevitably lost track of the more important ones, such as the life of a young boy. A criminal act by all accounts, but not a malicious one as you are hopefully to soon see; perhaps you will form your own opinions of the man and see that he may very well be a monster or perhaps not, at any rate I digress…

Moving passed the great hall and the adjoining rooms, the place was eerily silent throughout the summer months and a luxury for those who sought to relax after attempting to impart wisdom into unwilling minds "The staff is probably inebriated by now… Except for poor Filch, he still has much to do before were tip top again…" Shaking his head at the injustice of it all, he simply stood upon the top stair leading to his private quarters as they slowly began to extend towards the door "A great pity that the last Filch is a squib but no matter, the dear boy has dealt with it admirably I dare say after all these years." Lost in his own musings, he murmured a simple "Pop Rocks" to the gargoyle as he finally made his way towards the offices that had been his for the last fifty or so years and allowed himself a hubris filled moment as he glanced at the various medals and accreditations that he had gained throughout his remarkably long and eventful life "Order of Merlin first class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock… Ah there it is…" Looking towards the signed scroll that appointed him Headmaster of Hogwarts, he took a moment to bask in his accomplishments before sniffing at the air "It isn't Fawkes's burning day, did one of the Weasley's finally manage to prank…" Pausing for the briefest of moments as he finally ascertained what it was that had caught fire, a look of dread filled his features "No…."

Rushing towards the fireplace, he almost had forgotten to activate it as he stuck his head within the blaze (now wouldn't that be a humorous thought; Albus Dumbledore sans beard or eyebrows) as he bellowed into the green flames "Alastor Moody!" Praying that his friend and confidant of so many years was still at work, his worries were assured as a wizened and scared face of a warrior born seemed to fill Dumbledore's field of view.

"This better be important Albus, I finally got permission to do surveillance on my neighbors.. I swear their up to something with those bottles they keep getting." Now it would be perhaps impolite of me to say that Alastor Moody's neighbors were in fact muggles and that these bottles they received were from the milkman, so perhaps we should simply assume something appropriately dastardly and leave it at that. Noting the serious demeanor of his friend, he instantly seemed to put his own obsessions aside as he waited from the word of one he called friend and general during the last Great War against Voldemort and his followers.

"This is about Harry Potter… I need you to go to number four Privet Drive Alastor and determine if the boy is alright… It seems that none of my devices are working which means one of two things…" Hesitant to even say what those two things could mean, he was saved the trouble when his paranoid friend did it for him.

"The lad is either under wards that disabled your connection, or he's dead somewhere Albus… You should have never left him with those damn Muggles, I told…" Pausing as he saw the look of consternation upon his old friends face, he simply nodded "I will find out one way or another Albus you have my word."

Shutting down the connection to the Floo Network, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry simply slumped down into his seat behind the desk with his head resting in between his hands "What have I done…" Sitting in silence for perhaps a half turn of the glass, the sound of Fawkes flashing in and then landing upon the burnished oak desktop seemed to shake him free of his morose state as two letters seemingly dropped from the Phoenix's beak. Opening the first, he broke the seal of Gringotts bank with a practiced hand and glanced at the contents therein.

_**Dear Valued Customer**_

_**It has come to our attention that you are no longer legally entitled to act as the magical guardian of one Hadrian Augustus Potter and that in the remanding of said guardianship you are to immediately return the following items so that they can be either delivered to the family vault or to the duly appointed guardian of the Potter heir;**_

_**1) The key(s) to the Potter Trust Fund**_

_**2) The return of the pater familias' Invisibility Cloak, which, while temporarily loaned to you by one James Octavos Potter, must be returned to the vaults until the heir comes of age**_

_**We trust that the aforementioned artifacts and possessions will be returned immediately as we at Gringotts would be forced to pursue the reclamation to the fullest extent of Goblin Law, which we are entitled to do under the addendum of 36 c, para Z of our last treaty with the Wizengamot.**_

_**Please enjoy your day and thank you again for being a client of Gringotts**_

_**Griphook **_

_**Clan Bloodfist**_

_**Potter Family trustee**_

Shuddering ever so faintly as he was intimately aware of how brutal Goblin Law could be, he immediately relinquished the said items into the capable talons of his familiar before leaning back in his chair _So the boy is still alive, at least that is something, but a new Guardian… How is that even possible, the wards alone should prevent anyone with a shred of magical talent to gain entrance…? That's why I was going to send Hagrid in two years' time…_ Lost in his own thoughts for several moments, he finally sighed at the madness of it all and rested his hopes on Alastar catching a proper trail even as his left hand idly played with the last of his mail. Glancing towards the seal, he couldn't help but feel a shudder travel down his spine; even amongst the magical community, anyone so willing to use the Ismeju or 'Slavic Dragon' as their means of identification was either outright malevolent or mad "Or perhaps both… Who would send me something like this, surely not Gellert…?" Utilizing his wand to ascertain any sort of hex, curse, or dangerous potion within, he cautiously broke the seal and gazed at the contents...

_**To: Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts**_

_**Greetings**_

_**My apologies if I missed a few of your titles in passing Headmaster, such things only hold meaning in parts of the world where such influential institutes hold sway do they not? In any event, I suppose that we should get to the root of our problem, well your problem, rather than listen to me inquire about your well-being or the weather in dreary old London? I am of course speaking of one Hadrian Augustus Potter and how he came to be in my care when you took so much time and spent so much effort in assuring him the most beneficial of upbringings… I will wait while you collect your breath.**_

With his hands shaking, Albus simply continued perusing the contents of this highly offensive and nearly noxious correspondence with an eagerness that seemed to belie his worry. Continuing from where he left off, his eyes seemed to widen and contract in anger at the contents

_**Now that you have controlled what was certainly a near heart attack, we can continue with our little discourse. Hadrian is now my child in all but name, as his mundane Aunt and Uncle were oh so eager to sign him over to me in the hopes that the child would end up a day laborer or dead somewhere… Well done with the whole keeping him safe aspect Albus; his family routinely beat and verbally abused the boy which of course gave me access to those lovely wards of yours… Love is such a fickle mistress, a fact that you so unfortunately (well fortunate for me and my charge) had forgotten.**_

_**To make a long story short, the child is going to receive his education far away from Britain and all its concerns but never fear Albus, he will be well learned in all aspects of magick because after all… Innocents abroad need guides of note and who notes more than I… Than Etrigan?**_

Reading the last stanza over and over again with an incredulous look upon his features, his words came out slow and ponderous "What have I done…" Clenching and opening his hands around the parchment that had served as the reminder of his failure, he couldn't help but wonder if he had unleashed a terror onto this world the likes of which they would have never seen before or again "He could very well turn out worse than Tom, if what this letter says is true…"

Just as he were about go off on a rant against his own stupidity, the floo flared to life as old Mad Eye Moody appeared in the offices "We have some preliminary information Albus but it's sketchy at best… Seems both of the boys were taken by a man proclaiming to be someone from an Eastern European school… We checked with Durmstrang and Karkaroff assured us that no one had been sent… I have men I can trust stationed there right now in case the sneaky bastard was lying to us.." Glancing at Albus for a brief moment he continued on "The only thing we have to go on is the man's name… Name was Jason Cruor but if you know your Latin, his last name is clearly a play on words because it means…"

Interrupted in mid statement by the world weary voice of Albus Dumbledore, the phrase "It means blood does it not Alastor, Jason Blood…" Nodding his head slightly, he simply smiled "I will take it from here Alastor, there is nothing else we can do for now unless you can keep this off the reports for a few days as I sort all of this out?"

Receiving a grunt of affirmation for his troubles, he simply guided the grizzled Auror towards the Floo before motioning with his wand towards the bookshelf "I can only hope that it's an imposter…" Opening a text that had not seen the light of day since his hunt for the Hallows alongside Gellert, he quickly spotted the passage he was looking for.

**Known as the rhymer in Hell's various hierarchies, Etrigan is perhaps most infamous within the Wizarding world as the demonic half-brother of the cambion Myrddin Wyllt, who is often recognized by his more famous moniker of Merlin. By no means as strong as Merlin himself, the Etrigan was often summoned at his brother's behest in order to assist him in one task or another. Ultimately this arrangement ended when the beast was finally bonded to a member of King Arthur's court (or so the tales say) who went by the name of Jameson Cruor. There have been mentions of the Etrigan and its host throughout the centuries and all the writings point to the same assurances; Jameson Cruor was a sorcerer in his own right and adapted the surname of Blood in mockery of his own family line, the two of them are essentially immortal in that they have not aged since the bonding, and finally that they can by no means be considered good or evil in that they will use whatever magicks required to ensure that the balance is maintained by both sides. This of course is all presumption and hearsay as those ….**

Not bothering to read any further, Albus Dumbledore simply closed the text as the weight of his many years seemed to weigh upon his shoulders. Slowly rising to his feet, he shambled towards the doorway an old and embittered man "Wherever you are Hadrian, I simply hope that you are safe…"


	4. Chapter 4

_**Abyssal Salvation**_

_**Chapter Three Protecting and Corrupting Young Minds**_

The trip itself to the Airport was a lesson for Hadrian in the art of patience as he watched his cousin Dudley being waited on hand and foot _I did say I would go anywhere… If things get too drastic I can always run away…_ Snapping out of his reverie as the vehicle came to a stop, his gaze from the car window did nothing to assure him of his own safety; there were two planes out on the tarmac, one a private jet _For Dudley I'd bet…_ And a smaller plane that obviously seen better days as the mechanics struggled to fix the propeller _And that's where I come in how nice…_ Stepping out of the car, his grip upon what few meagre belongings he had served as a lifeline as the world seemed to shatter at his feet.

"Well boys, our respective chariots a wait… Dudley if you will follow Serban here…" Motioning to whom the boys assumed had been their driver, Mister Cruor continued with a somewhat malignant smirk on his features "He will ensure that you arrive at your destination in the manner in which you deserve." Muttering something to the one he called Serban in Croat, or perhaps another predominant Slavic language, Hadrian's savior motioned for silence towards his charge before finally whispering "Observe what happens to those who offend Hadrian… Eton of the East indeed."

As Dudley's incessant whines and demands seemed to reach a higher and higher pitch when he finally came to the realization that his was not to be the journey on the private jet, the sudden crack of a hand slapping flesh seemed to herald a moment of silence from the corpulent boy as a voice erupted from an until silent source "Boy should keep silent yes? The workhouses aren't as kind to boys as Serban is."

Reaching for and succeeding in grasping Dudley by the scruff of his neck, the rather swarthy individual simply began marching his prize towards the prop plane when a moments distraction, a lucky strike to the shins and fear succeeded in gaining Dudley's momentary freedom. As the child began to run, Hadrian's benefactor seemed unperturbed "If he escapes, you're destined for the workhouses; I promised Serban a child and I always keep my promises…" Raising a brow as if to insinuate that Hadrian should solve the problem, a laugh escaped his lips as the child he had traveled so far to reach, began to run after his cousin like a wolf would lope after a rabbit in the wild "There's my boy…"

As Hadrian began to run, a million thoughts seemed to flash through his mind _I'm not letting Dudley get away, he deserves this, him and all the rest of his family deserve to suffer for what they did_ Breaking into an easy sprint, he was used to such activity and yet this was something new; normally he was running from Dudley but now he was running after him _I told you I would hear you squeal…_ Moving with a speed that had been bred of sheer anger and urgency, he quickly overcame his cousin as the lights from the tarmac seemed to cast everything in a luminescent pale blue "Not so fast Dudders." The voice that erupted from Hadrian's lips was his and yet seemed to be overshadowed by the hatred in his heart, leaving it cold in both its timbre and pitch "I thought mumsy and daddy wanted you to go…" Smirking as he cornered his cousin, he couldn't help the thoughts that seemed so eager to come to the forefront _Look at him wheezing and clutching his side…_ _Pathetic_. A smile eerily similar to his benefactor's seemed to mutate and shift his features into something more than a nine year old child's "Time to go Dudley."

Now it was one thing for an adult to try and make demands of Dudley, he was used to authority and how to try and bend the rules nearly to their breaking point, but having that freak of a cousin try and put him in his place was more than he could bear. Finding a strength born out of fear and desperation, Dudley made one last bid for freedom only to fall flat on his face, as his cousin simply sidestepped and extended a foot, causing him to trip and fall. Struggling to rise, a sudden pain and the sensation of liquid pouring down from the back of his head seemed to rip through his haze of anger, fear, and overexertion. Rolling on his back as tears began to flow, the last thing he saw was Hadrian looking down on him with a bloodied rock in his right hand "Please… Harry… Please…"

"Please… You have the guts to say please to me Dudley?" With his small malnourished body shaking from the feelings of rage that seemed to fill him, he continued in that cold disquieting voice that no child should have "How many times did I say please Dudders? How many times did I beg…" Squatting over his cousin, his voice seemed to escape him like air hissing from a broken valve "While your being dragged away Dudders know this; I am going to see your entire family burn for what they did to me." Debating on whether or not his cousin deserved another strike to the temple, his hand was held back by a grip of iron. Shifting his gaze from Dudley, he could see Mister Cruor there shaking his head.

"Leave him Hadrian, I know you like being called Hadrian, his experience a the hands of others will be much worse than you can ever imagine." Watching as his charge dropped the rock, he nodded slightly "It's time to go." Watching as Dudley was hauled to his feet and quickly bound, Cruor's arm rested lightly on Hadrian's shoulders "Leave him to his fate and seek your own Hadrian." Guiding his youthful charge unto the private jet, the both of them endured the takeoff process in silence as one contemplated the next stage while the other was trying to come to terms with what he was becoming…

After an hour in flight, Hadrian's silent musings were interrupted by Cruor's voice "I think that we need to discuss a few things Hadrian, if only to assure you that what is happening is real and not some brain fever fantasy of yours." The quick snap-click of a lighter seemed to punctuate the words as Cruor continued "You and I, for lack of a better term, are different from the usual dregs of humanity… We can do things others can't because our wills and blood are strong." Looking at his youthful charge he continued "You know what I am speaking of do you not… The ability to hurt, to heal, to bend others to our wills… I know you have experienced this Hadrian as I have been watching you for a very long time." Waiting for a reaction and potential denial, he smirked faintly _The child isn't ignorant, this will make things easier… _Exhaling a great gout of smoke towards the roof of the cabin he continued "It's been called a great many things during humanity's reign; sorcery, the Art, legerdemain, magick... It all boils down to the fact that we can control a tiny facet of the cosmos's energies."

As they flew over Bosnia and various other small principalities, Hadrian was slowly informed of both his heritage and his past to such an extent that his mind was reeling "So if I am truly Britain's savior, why was I sent to the Dursley family and kept ignorant of my ancestry?" There was no anger there, it had been spent on Dudley before they had even stepped foot upon the plane, now he merely wished to understand _Someone is playing a game… A game I do not wish to play._ Waiting for an answer, he wasn't disappointed as the actions of the British Ministry of Magick as well as the manipulations of one Albus Dumbledore were brought to light in an almost neutral sense by whom he was quickly coming to see as his mentor "Then it was a way of gaining control of me… What about you Mister Cruor, what part do you play?"

For a long time silence seemed to fill the cabin before Cruor finally spoke " I have been on this Earth for a very long time Hadrian, longer than even the most wise deem possible and I have seen great good and great evil in this world, sometimes emanating from the same source." Taking a moment as he contemplated his next words, an unbidden thought seemed to escape _Everything is upon the precipice now, the child may either refute me, embrace my ideas wholeheartedly, or choose his own path… I must word this carefully_. "I wish to offer you a choice Hadrian and the opportunity to learn the Art without the moral compunctions of Britain's magickal society wearing heavily upon your shoulders… Hence the farce with your aunt's family, the question is this; are you willing to embrace everything that I can offer or do you wish to return to Britain and their broken society that was so willing to abandon a child to a life of abuse and terror?" The words had been chosen carefully but in the end, it was all in Hadrian's hands. Watching carefully as the child began to form an answer, Cruor wasn't disappointed.

"No… I can't go back… I can't go back to the life they led me to live Mister Cruor but I can't blindly accept what you have planned so please tell me; where are we going and what is going to happen to me?" No matter how brave a front or how mature the child had grown during his tenure in abuse and darkness, he was in the end, still a child and fear was showing through his features "I need to feel safe…" Wrapping his arms about himself as if assuring or strengthening himself, a plethora of thoughts seemed to escape _They are going to use me too, I'm going to be hurt again I know it.. _Shivering from the thought, he seemed to look towards Cruor with pleading eyes only to be shocked at the other man's laughter.

"Hurt you child… If I had wanted that I would have sent you with your cousin…" Looking at Hadrian for a moment he continued "What I am offering you is a chance to become strong and resolute, a chance to become more than what you are, a chance to deal with those who hurt you from a position of strength." Pausing for a moment he continued "And while it is true that you may experience pain, it will be of your own choosing and no one else's… If you choose this path then you must give it your all lest you be consumed by it." Glancing at the watch upon his wrist, he slowly stood "It's time to go Hadrian." Reaching for the child's shoulder, he slowly caused him to stand as vertigo and a sense of wrenching seemed to pull from his center. As both he and Cruor began to apparated, the stench of fire and the sound of explosions seemed to fill the air behind them as the plane they had been utilizing only moments before, erupted into an inferno. The last words he heard before falling into the labyrinthine twists of light were those of his mentor "We do what is necessary to protect each other Hadrian, and if it costs lives then so be it; I will not have them track you before you are ready to return." His eyes rolling up into his head, Hadrian heard and saw no more…

_**Author's Miscellanea**_

_**It's not my habit to add addendums to my writing, so I will make this succinct and to the point; yes Hadrian is far more mature than one could expect from a 'normal' nine year old child but given the amount of abuse he has experienced, it would certainly leave it's mark upon him as is evident with my experience in counselling others; there will be moments where his childlike qualities will shine through but on the whole he was forced to grow up extremely fast with books being is only comfort.**_

_**With that out of the way, I just wanted to thank the people who have reviewed thus far and once again offer up my apologies in the late posting; a dear friend of the family passed during the latter part of the Winter Holidays and I was helping others come to terms with it as well as dealing with my own grief.**_

_**Furthermore, any more addendums I make will be within the reviewing process proper rather than at the beginning or end of the chapters I will be submitting, so if you have questions, expect them to be answered there.**_

_**Thank you once again for the kind words and reviews**_

_**~ Apostacy **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Abyssal Salvation**_

_**Chapter Four: Odysseus Was a Man I am But a Child **_

Once the momentary feeling of nausea finally abated and he could once again stand upon his own two feet without vertigo threatening to cause him to stagger, Hadrian immediately began to gauge his surroundings with a keen eye towards his own safety; they were surrounded by a copse of trees with the forest floor riddled with a variety of decomposition ranging from deep green mosses to the orange-red pine needles that seemed to crunch underfoot "Where are we Mister Cruor?" Suffering from the suffocation that the century old forest seemed to provide, he could almost feel the trees trying to strangle each other in the hopes of reaching the sunlight that existed just above the canopy _It's almost as if everything here knows that death is just around the corner… _Turning towards his guardian in exasperation, he seemed to wisely hold his tongue as he awaited the answer.

"A place where dreams go to die Hadrian and where nightmares escape their caul…" His eyes distant for the briefest of moments, Jason Cruor seemed to shake himself free of his daydreams as he continued to address his young charge "Some say that the Bialowieza Forest on the borders of Belarus and Poland is the oldest and most ancient of its kind, and the muggles would be right after a fashion; this place is untouched by the outside world as the mundanes reckon it and has gone out of its way to remain hidden since time memorial." Motioning towards a solitary deer path that had clearly seen much use recently, despite the feelings of isolationism that they very trees perpetuated with their existence, he simply set off whether his charge would follow or no "This path came into being well before the advent of Christianity and Judaism…." Murmuring to himself rather than to Hadrian he continued "And it will remain so, well after all such things have long since passed."

Not wanting to be left alone in such a place, Hadrian struggled to maintain pace with his newly acquired mentor "But sir, you still haven't answered my questions, I…" His words seemed to stick in his throat as something sped passed his peripheral in the deep undergrowth "What was that?" His hand seemed to instinctively reach and settle into his guardians, as the deep routed fear that all human beings share of the unknown began to awaken within his fragile subconscious "Are we safe?" Despite his maturity and the callousness in which he regarded life, Hadrian was still but a child and held to the great fear of the dark that the older and less wise seemed to dismiss as folly "Should we run?" Contemplating that very option, a voice seemed to just permeate the darkened glade and freeze the child in his very tracks.

"Be good, my child, come, go with me!

I know nice games, will play them with thee,

And flowers thou 'It find near by where

I live, pretty dress my mother will give." _**  
**_

The words themselves appeared to emanate from a voice that dripped both with honey and promise while also leaving the listener with the distinct feeling of dread. Taking a hesitant step towards the voice and its origins, Hadrian's momentary lapse of reason suddenly failed him, as the beguilement was broken with the sounds of snarling and the crashing of trees. Tugging upon his guardian's hand, the desperate plea of "We have to get out of here sir!" Was halted as a strong hand, a warrior's hand, gripped Hadrian tight while a fey and malevolent caste began to rest upon his guardian's features.

"Stay silent child and speak neither name nor promise, I had nearly forgotten this creature in my travels but I daresay he hasn't forgotten me." Turning towards the deep underbrush, his words momentarily began to cut the darkness "Do not attempt to take by force what is already spoken for trickster and child stealer, your power is strong but here in the darkness you know mine are stronger still; come forward and discuss terms lest ye die." In that brief moment of archaic speech-making, whether it was to be a trick of the ever fading light or perhaps simply caused from exhaustion, Hadrian could swear that another face had somehow superimposed itself upon his guardians normally suave and handsome features _He looks like one of the gargoyles off of Westminster Abbey but in the flesh… What is he?_ Even as he began to question what it all meant, the flash of insight was gone and silence settled upon the glade.

As both mentor and child held their breath while hoping against hope that the challenge would be ignored or conceded, all hopes were quickly dashed as a spindly figure that seemed more akin to a stick bug with its limbs all akimbo rather than a man upright and tall stepped out into the glade. Clad in tatterdemalion composed of poison oak, cobwebs with desiccated bugs still cocooned and thorny brambles, all of this was surmounted by a crown of sumac and holy; a mockery which only served to emphasize the great malevolence that emanated like waves from the kobold like creature "Foolish children who venture to deep into the forests are my lawful prey, it matters very little that guardian is present or not… A being such as you should certainly know the old ways." The creature's voice hinted of dust and decay, of the centipede and spider, of wolves and crows and all things that fed off of the life of others; in a sense it was far worse than the creature itself in that the voice still maintaining a certain saccharine sweetness in order to manipulate and seduce all comers "Surely we do not have to fight over such a tiny trifle?" Attempting to look around Cruor's frame, the creature smiled as it inspected Hadrian, much like a farmer would when looking over a prized hog or calf.

"Normally I would agree with you in that a child is of little worth, but…" At this point Jason paused in order to phrase his next statement most carefully, even as he dismissed Hadrian's look of betrayal and disbelief "I contend that the individual set upon your board is no child and has never been one, thus not your lawful prey." Murmuring a series of words that were alien to Hadrian's ears, a collection of stones were transfigured into a small table with accompanying chairs "As such we are at an impasse, however I do have an offer." Motioning for Hadrian to join him, Cruor merely raised a brow as he awaited the creature's compliance.

"An offer you say, surely it must be a thing of note to prevent me from seeking such a suckling pig." Rubbing a spindly hand against his sallow cheek, the creature finally joined them at the impromptu table "Have the child speak your offer and be quick about it; if it isn't to my liking then I will take my due whether you agree or no." Now dismissing Cruor as a simple go between, the creatures spindly eyes rested upon the waif like silhouette that Hadrian offered.

Sitting down, while trying to still his quaking limbs and failing miserably, he fell silent for a long moment as he contemplated what was occurring _It's clear that I have to offer something of value to this creature, but what do I know about it? It clearly enjoys suffering but…_ A faint smile began to peek out from behind Hadrian's fear as he finally addressed the interested parties "You like to see the uhm.. children you take to suffer right?" Seeing the nod, he continued to struggle with finding something to bargain with "But from what I see, you only get to see what you can do to the individual and not what others have done in the past…" A sudden surge of hope swelled in his chest as he spotted the creature's interested stare "What if I could offer you nine years of suffering, all at different ages, that you could watch over and over again without exerting yourself?" While he had never the inclination before to pray, it never helped him with his so-called relatives, the urge was suddenly there as he waited for the creature's response.

"Nine years you say duckling? My guests rarely survive one… If you could offer such a thing then I would be inclined to let you go." Suddenly excited by the prospect, the creature threw back its head as it laughed, a laugh that sounded nothing more than like a blade drawn across a whetstone "Such a delightful child… No, young man indeed… To offer up suffering of the mind rather than the flessssh." The last word was drawn out in a hiss and emphasized as a spindly and clawed hand slowly caressed Hadrian's arm "I accept."

Emboldened by his success and remembering that one should always negotiate from a position of strength, perhaps the only mote of knowledge that had sunken in during his time with the Dursleys, he simply continued on "But sir, seeing how you just admitted that your uhm… Guests only last the year, I would require something a bit more, namely your oath that you will not seek to beguile or inflict any kind of pain on me if we ever meet again…" Biting his lip, even his guardian drew in a sharp breath as Hadrian bartered with one of the most ancient of beings on Earth

The creature itself fell silent, as if gauging the pros and cons of such a deal, before finally grinning a shark's grin "You barter like a fish-monger or a demon… Not surprising with the company that you keep, but I agree to the terms." Moving with a swiftness that belied its form, clawed hands quickly drew blood as they dug themselves into Hadrian's temples "Wand's and sorcery doesn't interest me duckling but suffering does, I won't steal these from you but merely keep a copy… I wouldn't want to deny you the lessons your memories teach." Tilting its head back, as the memories began to pour from the Child's unprotected mind and locked away behind Occlumency walls that had been strong since before the Roman's came, a slow and softly emitted moan erupted from between the creature's cracked and dusty lips as it began to suffer from what a laymen could call a religious or orgasmic experience "That's it duckling, share them all with me…"

The strong arms of his guardian quickly encircled Hadrian, as a scream that had no right passing over human lips passed over his own and escaped into the glade proper. A plethora of images raced before Hadrian's mind's eye; all things imaginable that would cause grown men to plead and beg, all these things this child had endured and was now forced to experience again. When mankind would eventually speak of Hadrian in hushed whispers around the hearth, it was rumored that it was this pivotal moment in which the child turned truly dark, that he finally accepted the pain and twisted it into something for his own use… But that was the future and in the here and now, a child sat gibbering as the creature took its leave with a wicked smile and horrid laugh left in its wake.

How long they sat there with Hadrian enfolded in his guardian's arms no one could say, indeed if Hadrian had been coherent he may have realized that this was his first bout with kindness, but alas it was all a haze. Slowly returning to reality, it was no longer a child's voice that broke the silence but that of a man trapped in a child's form "We still have a journey ahead of us do we not Mister Cruor?" Shaking himself free of his guardian's embrace, the child said nothing more as he simply continued down the deer path that Jason had pointed out scant moments before.

The remainder of their journey was held in complete silence, Hadrian had nothing to say and his guardian couldn't think of anything to break the silence _I should have protected him, I should have found another way but it's moot now; harsh times all for hard ways and Hadrian will simply have to come to terms._ As the forest floor slowly gave way to swamp and then eventually to a beach surrounded by driftwood and decay, the silence was finally broken "We're here Hadrian." With an arm extended towards the center of the Lake where a dark silhouette seemed to peek out of the mists, he didn't bother with waiting for his charge's questions "The squib Emily Gerard was the closest to explaining this place when she said _**'As I am on the subject of thunderstorms, I may as well here mention the Scholomance, or school supposed to exist somewhere in the heart of the mountains, and where all the secrets of nature, the language of animals, and all imaginable magic spells and charms are taught by the devil in person. Only ten scholars are admitted at a time, and when the course of learning has expired and nine of them are released to return to their homes, the tenth scholar is detained by the devil as payment..' **_Close but not the truest representation of this place." Looking towards the child _No he was never really a child and never will be…_He cleared his throat "This is your last chance to turn away Hadrian, no one would fault you for it; we can return to England where you could have a life away from your relatives and enjoy Hogwarts." Waiting for an answer, what came next would forever scar him till the end of days…

"What life Mister Cruor?" Turning on his heel away from the dark waters that would signify the end of a long journey, Hadrian continued "All I have known about childhood was pain, deceit and loss… The fairy tale of having a pleasant home life or friends, or loved ones is exactly that; a tale to be told and scarcely believed." Falling silent as he peered out towards the choppy waters, he could almost feel the magicks effects in strengthening him; not a physical maturation to be certain but his mental and emotional acumen was increasing by leaps and bounds "Even now I can feel a change within me, did you know that?" Turning to face his savior, a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes was resting on his features "I can feel my childhood and childlike ways slip away while leaving me with nothing to fill it." Stepping close towards his mentor, the last of his words escaped in a hiss "I will become a power Jason, a power the like of which no one has seen before or will again and Hogwarts will not help me so here is my answer…" Thinking back to the time spent hiding in the library, thinking back to the knowledge he consumed and his attempts at escapism, one particular stanza from Shakespeare seemed fitting "Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!' "


	6. Chapter 6

_**Abyssal Salvation**_

_**Chapter Five: After Knowledge What Hope Is There**_

The classroom seemed to echo in its stillness as the sound of quills scratching against parchment became the only counterpoint to the even breathing of nine individuals as they went about completing their studies for the evening; it seemed that the Art of Necromancy did not lend itself well to flights of fancy. As they continued to pour over the various treatises and compendiums of knowledge, the tenth paused in idle contemplation. Placing his quill carefully upon the lip of the inkwell, young Hadrian took the briefest of moments to gauge his surroundings for what seemed the millionth time _Nearly four years have passed, no beatings no abuse, only an expectation for me to excel by any means necessary…And I have excelled…_ Looking towards his fellow students, a wry grin seemed to escape and yet never did quite reach his cold Avada Kedavra eyes _I still don't know if I can count them as allies, enemies, or simply acquaintances; we rarely speak except for the various debates we hold during our studies. _Taking up his quill once more, he once again immersed himself in his work whilst blocking out the world surrounding him.

The Citadel itself was a cold and nearly sterile environment for any child used to a certain amount of entertainment, but for one who was hungry for knowledge it was a perfect fit due to its simple layout and few distractions. A solitary classroom stood on the main level with adjacent mendicant cells for the students to reside in; if they wanted anything other than a simple cot and rickety stool for furnishings they would have to fabricate them on their own. The upper level held both the Headmaster's quarters and a Library that would have rivaled Alexandria in Egypt's heyday, while the lower was devoted to brewing and various alchemical experiments.

All in all it was nothing out of the ordinary for a school of such calibre, save for one secret held deep and dark within the bowels of the Tower; the summoning circle. Created several centuries before the ascension of Vlad Tepesh, the silver inlay and gold symbols certainly seemed appealing to the sight of the uninitiated and yet for those with the knowledge; the stones themselves screamed of the various entities that had been dragged kicking and screaming across the gulf of the Abyss. Created by the original members of the Solomonari, as the apprentices of this institution were labeled, these dangerous men of serious mien and of unfathomable depths had spent a lifetime in creating an academy devoid of moral bias in an effort to allow future students a modicum of free will when it came to their studies.

While those worthies were long since dust and ashes, their current day predecessors had shown neither interest nor envy towards the most recent of their fellows but rather a cool indifference towards the child who had arrived in their midst; this was no schoolyard or place of camaraderie, but a place of power! Those too short-sighted or jealous to realize this would not survive long within one of the last true Bastions of Sorcery.

Putting the finishing touches upon his current assignment, Hadrian scarcely had time to cast fine sand over his parchment to prevent the ink from spreading, when a solitary chime sounded an end to his time in the Great Hall _It's time then, I had wondered when I would be seeking my replacement._ Glancing at the generic wand he had been issued upon entering here, he wordlessly placed the parchment upon the desk at the front of the _room Finally a wand suited to me personally and not this idle piece of driftwood barely suitable for the higher art, I must be prepared for whatever comes… _Watching as his assignment disappeared for parts unknown, he could only smirk at the sense of Darwinism that this place exuded; there was no grading curve or marks assigned here, merely a pass and a continuance or fail and repetition. Unlike so many other schools and colleges that seemed to coddle their students , this academe was the Great Divider of men _I wonder what truly happens to the repeat failures, I have yet to see it happen…_ Dismissing such thoughts from his mind, he quite simply made his way towards the double doors where one of the solitary guardians and/or professors stood watch "I am prepared."

Slowly raising the hood of his robes up to shield his face as the doors were opened, the sudden blast of fresh air seemed to revitalize his senses as his instructions were implanted via Legilimency, an act that had infuriated the young man ever since their arrival; one moment there was nothing and then the next, a series of instructions and the necessary information to attain results _Would it hurt them, just once, to speak these things aloud? _Refusing to allow his disdain to show on his face, he gleaned over his instructions _So four nights and three days to gain what I need and return or face being hunted down… At least there aren't any miscommunications this way._ Smirking wryly, he said nothing further as he strode out into the Wylds...

It had been several hours before he finally stood out of the deep undergrowth of the forest and into a familiar clearing _I still remember the touch of its claws as it ripped the memories clean… But a bargain made is a bargain struck…_ Shaking his head ever so slightly in an attempt to clear his mind of the sense of foreboding that seemed to follow him no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it, a deep breath was forced into his lungs as he moved deeper into the very heart of the forest "A minor summoning or maybe a scrying? Either way I would gain a better understanding of the pitfalls and benefits of this place." Pulling out the small penknife that he used to trim his quills, the entire forest fell silent as if waiting on baited breath in anticipation of what this human would do; some things needed to be savored and the freely offered blood of a child most of all. As the droplets began to hit the pine needles that littered the forest floor, Hadrian slowly began to tread in a circle around one of the few alder trees that seemed to thrive in this horrid place _The words will let the power be unleashed, I just have to ensure that the circle is complete._ Closing his eyes, as the energy that his sacrifice had produced began to ebb and flow, the words seemed to come without hesitation or restraint; a sure sign that the rite was at the same time successful and at its most dangerous peak

**"Þat kann ec it fimta,  
****ef ec se af fári scotinn  
fleín i folci vaða:  
****flygra hann sva stint,  
at ec sta/dvigac,  
****ef ec hann siónom of sec."**

While the minutes began to slowly tick by, there was that momentary pang of worry that every conjurer faces_ Did I draw the circle right, was the cadence of the Havamal sound? What if I messed up and let something loose?_ Pacing back and forth for what seemed the hundredth time, his patience was rewarded as a gravelly voice broke the silence "You're either awfully sure of yourself child or mad… Or maybe a combination of both, to chance such an open-ended summoning here of all places…" Turning to face the owner of such an astute observation, he was slightly surprised at the relative normalcy of his guest; to all appearances he would have been described as normal, save for the iron-shod shoes and rust colored cap that seemed to sit rakishly upon the beings pate _A redcap here... While it is true that there are no true boundaries amongst the fae, I had thought something more indigenous would make itself known? This needs a moment of observation while the circle holds; a misstep could mean my death… _ His arrogance seemingly curtailed by the possibility of his death, the words of pleading seemed to die on his lips as the wizened creature approached the circle with cap in hand "What a waste of blood that… Surely your elders have taught you the importance of such things."

As the primordial being placed its cap at the utter edge of the circle, Hadrian could only watch on in horror as the blood was effectively sucked up into the beret, leaving him effectively defenseless. As time came to a dreadful standstill, he seemed to finally mustering his bravery as the words croaked passed his lips "I came here to bargain sir, but if you are looking for my death, you will find the expense far too costly."

Allowing his wand to slip into a willing hand, the words of a curse were upon his lips and then forgotten as the creature sat down with the creak of knees and a dusty laugh "Child if I had wanted you dead, I would have struck you down before you even offered that half-penny summoning of yours…" Settling down upon the grass with his pikestaff resting comfortably across his lap, the creature continued "The truth of the matter is that you are a bit of a celebrity in these woods; not many escape the Erlking with a well-placed bargain… No I think it would be to both our advantages if we worked out an accommodation." Withdrawing a well-worn pipe from within its tattered coat, the creature squinted "So what exactly has brought you to near ruin in summoning one such as I and what is it you are willing to offer for potential service?"

Now was the delicate moment as all hang in the balance; if he offered too much then he would suffer in the long term and if he offered too little then the immediate "What do you desire then?" Absently fidgeting as he waited for the hammer to fall, he couldn't help himself as he contemplated the proper ways for dealing with the Unseelie Courts _Cold wrought iron, the Killing curse, some of the older blood magicks…_ All three were useless for one reason or another; he had no cold wrought iron, he was still unable to cast what enlightened wizarding culture had deemed the 'unforgivables' and he had no althame to use the widely diverse blood rituals _I am fucked good and proper if this situation comes to a boiling point, no it's best to haggle. _Turning an exasperated eye towards his guest, he finally blurted out "Not to seem rude but I am on a very short timetable sir and I…"

About to continue further, Hadrian was halted by a gnarled finger that motioned for silence "The thing is child, I have heard" Smirking faintly the creature continued "Heard mind, but not witnessed the atrocities that your family deemed fit to commit, in fact the Erlking has taken to bragging about it at great length so here is what I suggest…" Puffing upon the now lit pipe, a malicious look of glee seemed to cast a shadow on the creatures features "You pass on your debt of vengeance on all three into my hands; pickings are slim here in these woods and your death, while tempting, scarcely compares to three that you can offer." Allowing a thick plume of smoke to escape between dusty lips like steam from a dragon's maw, he continued "Seeing how the blood debt is owed to you, I need to hear the words boy and in return I swear by my name thrice that I will assist to the best of my ability; a win-win wouldn't you say, your vengeance is gained and help is given whilst I gain fresh blood for this raggedy cap o'mine… Take your time in deciding, but chose wisely."

Silence seemed to fill the glade as Hadrian, a fledgling scholar of all things both light and dark, weighed the offer in his mind _I swore that the vengeance would be mine… I can't give it what it wants but if I don't…_ Shuddering as he contemplated the alternative, his inner argument continued _Then again, if their deaths result in me achieving my goals then all the better; my hands would be clean._ Fighting off the chill, all signs of the tormented child seemed to dissipate "On two conditions redcap; it can in no way be tied to me and second…" An almost unholy glint seemed to reach his eyes "They have to suffer unimaginably." Receiving an almost eager nod from his guest, he quickly sealed the bargain "Then I pass my debt of vengeance upon you and only you, so mote it be."

A fleeting blaze of sickly yellow light seemed to tie both the creature and child together for the briefest of moments as the bargain was struck "Then young Potter we have an accord." Slowly standing with a grunt that came from centuries of hard living, the creature seemed to take a great delight in twirling it's pikestaff for a moment before driving it down upon the earth with such force that a shard of metal came loose "It's a beginning for you, but the task is not yet finished." Placing the fae wrought steel into Hadrian's quaking hands he continued with his instructions "You are far from England boy and while your destiny and heart still reside there, you yourself are a stranger in a strange land." Weighing and measuring, the muttered words of "She would probably strike a deal with someone of his aptitude instead of simply eating him.. Yesss he needs to see the hag." Clearing his throat with a vicious grin the creature simply pointed "Follow the deer path yonder and keep following until you come upon a small hut surrounded by a fence of bones… I would suggest that you do not go empty handed and that you call her Grandmother." Placing it's cap once more upon it's hoary brow, the creature seemed to smirk "Now if you will excuse me, I need to make my way back to England by unseen paths… Till our next meeting young Potter." Trudging off into the underbrush, the sound of the creatures iron-shod feet seemed to echo for the briefest of moments and then faded into nothingness.

Standing there with mouth agape, Hadrian's first words were "That's it, a piece of metal and directions?" Glancing down at the aforementioned shard, he stood their bemused as he glanced at the bloody sheen it presented and then towards the path _They always keep their word, even if those who summon them seldom understand._ Recalling his lessons, he simply placed the curious looking shard within the pouch about his neck and began the long cold trek he had been shown "One night down and only three remaining…" Trudging into the darkness, there was once again silence within the wood.

_**Somewhere in Eastern Europe**_

As the days and nights seemed to drag on into a state of near comatose, Dudley seldom had time to bemoan his current predicament; here he was in some sweatshop working for a bunch of fellows who refused to speak proper English when it should have been his cousin working himself to the bone "Damn Potter, when mumsy and daddy find out where I am, he'll get his I swear it."

Flopping down upon the pallet that was so graciously 'provided' for him, the cold concrete floor just caused him to ache all over again as he stared into the darkness _I am going to beat the prick to death…_ Smirking as he contemplated just what he was going to do to his so-called cousin, he didn't notice the gnarled hand sneaking out from the shadows to cover his mouth and nor did he truly feel the razor sharp blade that sliced across his porcine throat. As his life-blood seemed to pump and gush from his carotid, the last words he heard were his only benediction "Yer parents will see you soon lad." Lying in a pool of blood that was quickly being siphoned away to parts unknown, those final words seemed to permeate his simple mind _I knew they wouldn't leave me here alone…_

_**Number Four Privet Drive**_

"Cor, what happened here Charles?" Drawing the curtains closed to allow both his fellow inspectors and himself the opportunity to work without the various gawkers and gossips trying to sneak a peek at the massacre, he squatted down towards the floor with a quiet look of apprehension on his face "Do you think it was underworld related, they could have been leaving a message to someone."

Snapping on a pair of clinical gloves as he slowly examined the corpse, he was interrupted by his partner of ten years "Bugger it for a lark if I know, but do you really think that these gorms were movers and shakers?"

Shaking his head as his partner gave his atypical lively commentary, he stared at the carnage "Have you canvassed the neighbors? To do something like this would take time Charles and knowledge of anatomy… There must have been screams."

"Nah the neighbors all say that nothing was wrong, hell one of them went on upon how the woman was bragging about her son attending a fancy school when they saw her last which was about a quarter passed seven…" Noting the rather greenish cast of his partner he punched him lightly on the shoulder "Come on James, we've done all we can until the examiner can tell us more, I'll buy you a pint."

_**Scotland Yard**_

The following morning, as the report was finally submitted, the words were just as horrific as the scene when the head constable finally read it aloud "Both victims were summarily jointed and bled in a process that took between four to six hours with no trace of blood at the scene and no sign of a potential cover-up; it is suggested that tourniquets were involved. There is an inability to determine a proper time of death due to the processes involved, but an estimate places the victims passing between five and six a.m. Each cut was precise and done to minimize blood loss until finally the Femoral artery was cut." Reaching for the tea that had nearly gotten stone-cold as he had read the report, he awkwardly placed it down with a curse as he continued to read "No signs of forced entry and no trace of D.N.A material aside from that of the victims." Reaching for his pack of cigarettes he could only mutter "Bloody Hell…"


End file.
